


Battles and Trysts

by xensilverquill



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Body Worship, Kissing, M/M, basically a collection of plotless HW drabbles i've written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xensilverquill/pseuds/xensilverquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love is like war: easy to begin but very hard to stop."</p><p>-H. L. Mencken</p><p>Mutli-ship drabbles inspired by Hyrule Warriors.</p><p>Chapter 2: Volga/Ghirahim</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. God and Servant (Ganondorf/Zant)

"M-master-!"

"Shhh, my most faithful one. Be at peace, and yield to me…"

He felt the Twili tremble in pleasure in his grasp, and a smirk curled on Ganondorf’s lips. One of his hands was splayed across the small of Zant’s back and kept his minion firmly in his lap. Though he could not see them, he traced the arcane runes and swirls of the Twili’s back with knowing fingers. With the other hand the warlord pushed the confining and concealing robes off Zant’s shoulders to reveal the soft, untouched skin beneath.

Craning his neck, the Gerudo first nuzzled one thin shoulder and then the other. He traced the glowing lines with his mouth in the same caressing way he did with his fingers. Purring lighty, he nipped lightly at the pronounced collar bone, always following with warm licks to soothe away the pain. With caressing sweeps of his tongue he brought forth the sweetest whimpers from the Twili.

"Oh, m-master, pl-please…" came the soft, high plea as those pale fingers clung desperately to him.

"Patience, patience," the Gerudo chided gently. "Do not fret; I shall not leave you wanting…"

Zant all too willingly tilted his head back, baring his throat to his god’s ministrations. The warlord accepted the wordless submission wholeheartedly as he pressed his lips against the  fluttering pulse just beneath the skin. Ganondorf reveled in the heady scent there, reveled in the fragile life so willingly offered to him.

He supposed it was that insatiable Power rising up within him again. The desire to conquer and to rule was so, so strong. The Twili was his and his alone to command. That wild beast in his chest rose up, roaring and howling and demanding nothing less than total dominance and control.

Oh, but he had to be careful with this one. Like a dagger of the sharpest steel, Zant was a beautiful weapon honed and shaped to pounce and kill. Yet the edge, while sharp beyond imagining, was so thin and breakable. One had to be gentle with that sort, coaxing and encouraging the best out of them with only as much force as absolutely needed.

Ganondorf quivered with the force of his own restraint, but he kept his cool and calm in the face of the storm. Clasping the Twili’s head in his palm, he kissed his way up that pale neck to the shivering jaw. For the briefest of moments his tongue dipped in that most sensitive of spots at the corner of Zant’s mouth. He growled in response to the moaning keen that followed.

"You are mine," the warlord rumbled as his mouth traveled up the Twili’s face. Soon his lips were level with his lieutenant’s pointed, delicate ear. The Gerudo’s warm breath washed over it, sending soft maroon hair flying in response. His tongue flicked around the delicate shell,  and he took the end between his teeth.

"You are  _mine_ , Zant. Say it.” 

"I-I’m- I’m- I’m y-yours, my lord. _Always_.”

At long last Ganondorf brought their lips crashing together, the bond between god and servant resonating as the darkness crashed around them…


	2. For My Will Is as Strong as Yours

dThe dragonkin were magnificent as the winged beasts they claimed as their ancestors. They were proud and strong warriors all. Burning in their hearts, screaming in their blood, was the desire to conquer, to dominate, to possess. They were a fierce race - and not just on the battlefield.

Growling low in his throat, Volga all but threw the demon against the wall. His scarlet armor long since shed, he forcefully gripped the pale shoulders with his bare hands. The dragon knight hissed steam upon the cool flesh as his mouth grazed over the flawless skin of Ghirahim’s throat.

"Hm, rather eager tonight, aren’t we?" his lover purred, those dark eyes as beguiling and infuriating as ever. "Poor dear - have you been this ravenous for me all day?"

“ _Quiet_ ,” Volga hissed. One hand wrapped about the nape of the sword spirit’s neck. His nails dug like claws into the soft yet unyielding skin. Yet the demon did not shrink away. He leaned into the touch, responded with a matching fury.

"Now do not go ordering _me_ about, or do we need to go over the issues of control aga- Mmph! Mm…”

The dragon knight slanted his mouth over the sword spirit’s own. His forked tongue slid over the white painted lips. Ghirahim sighed against him, slight arms wrapping around his partner’s muscled torso. The shifter’s reply was a rattling snarl as his lover’s tongue between his teeth. His fangs clashed with the demon’s, and it was war of heat and metal between them, of dragon and sword.

Not for the first time since they met, Volga wondered if his lover was not a weapon but dragonkin in disguise. The demon certainly had all the same fire and passion beneath the reserved, haughty exterior. No matter what happened, Ghirahim never bent or broke. Even when the two of them fought for dominance - like enemies, like _mates_ \- as they did now, the demon never gave in but answered with that adamantine will.

Distantly, he thought that was perhaps what he adored most about Ghirahim.

"[My demon]," Volga rasped between breaths. "[My gem…]"

A breathy chuckle was his only response, but for the dragon knight, it was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "[Denotes draconic speech]"


End file.
